


Bruised - Young Steve/Soda

by eliniel



Series: Outsiders Requests [14]
Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Child Abuse, Peaches - Freeform, if for some reason you hate peaches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliniel/pseuds/eliniel
Summary: Tumblr request for: "Are you hurt?" "No." "Then why are there bruises all over your face?"





	Bruised - Young Steve/Soda

Soda was heading home from the fresh produce stand a few blocks down, and bit into the large, juicy peach he’d just bought. The rest of the pennies his mother had given him for doing extra chores jingled in his pocket as he walked. He liked the sound it made and started humming a little song to go with it as he kept munching on his fruit, the liquid dripping down his chin and getting the front of his shirt wet. 

As he slowly made his way home, he saw a kid in the distance. He was sitting along the sidewalk, staring at the gravel that had come up from a crack in the road. He thought it peculiar, that this random kid was sitting so close to the road. He couldn’t have been any older than Soda- and he’d never seen him before, either. 

When he’d caught up to the boy, he leaned down to get a closer look.

“Hello,” he said, his young voice still high, almost angelic. He sat down on the pavement next to the kid, who didn’t respond. Didn’t even move to act like he’d heard. “You want a bite of my peach?”

“Could you leave me alone?” the boy asked. Soda examined his face. His face was black and blue.

“Hey, are you hurt?” He his his face from Soda. 

“No,” he mumbled. 

“Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

The kid was silent for a few long moments, then started to stand up and walk away. 

“Hey, wait!” Soda called after him and scrambled to get off the curb without dropping his peach. Once he was up, we caught up with the other boy quickly. 

“Please, just go away,” he said, angrily, his cheeks turning red. “It’s nothin’. I’m fine, so just go-”

“I’ve ain’t ever seen you around here, I don’t think.”

“N-no, my family just moved here.”

“Oh. That’s cool.” They continued walking down the sidewalk, side by side. The bruised boy didn’t complain again. “What’s your name?”

“Steve.”

“Oh, that’s a nice name. My name’s Sodapop Curtis, but everyone calls me Soda,” he said proudly, chest puffing out.

“S-Sodapop? That’s your real name?” Steve looked confused for a second.

“Well, yeah- my daddy picked it. I got a little brother named Ponyboy, too.” At the mention of fathers, Soda watched him deflate and look down at the ground, shoving his small hands into the pocket of his jeans.

“Is-is that who beat you up?”

Without looking up, he nodded, and looked towards the street again. Sodapop was silent for a few strides, chewing on his fruit. But then, he had a thought and instantly perked up.

“Hey Steve?”

“What?”

“You wanna be friends?”

“Friends?”

“Yeah! We could, ya know, play together and stuff.”

“I don’t- I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend before.”

“We can be best friends! Follow me!” He turned down the street that led to his house where his mother was probably starting on dinner and his father just kicking off his shoes after getting home from work. Where his older brother was probably working on his homework and his younger brother was probably making a mess of himself in the dirt of the small backyard. Steve would love it, he was sure. And his mom would love Steve- he hoped.

“Where are we goin’?”

“My house! You can meet my family and since we’re best friends, they can be your family, too.”

 

“But- I-,” Steve hesitated, but continued following nonetheless. Before he could finish his thought, Soda started heading up the steps to a porch he’d never seen before. The front door was open, the screen door the only barrier between the outside and inside.

“Mom!” he called. “I found a stray!”

 

“A stray?” His mother shouted back, then pushed through the door, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. Steve marvelled up at her. Soda pointed at him and his mother’s gaze followed her son’s finger. “Sodapop Curtis,” she chided. “That isn’t nice to say about someone else.”

“Oh it’s okay, mom.” He started skipping up the steps. “We’re best friends.” She crossed her arms, an amused smile spreading across her face.

“Oh you are, are you?”

“Well yeah. Can he stay for dinner?” Mrs. Curtis knelt down in front of Steve. Her smile drooped when she saw the bruises on his face. She moved a lock of him long hair out of his eyes, and smiled again, warmly. 

“Of course you can stay for dinner,” she said, kindly, if not a little sadly. “You can come over whenever you want, honey.”

Soda watched as Steve’s expression changed. There was wonder in his eyes- and something else. 

“T-thank you, Mrs. Curtis.”

She patted him on the cheek and stood up.

“I want both of you washed and at the table in ten minutes, okay?”

“Yes, mom.” Soda grabbed Steve’s hand and took off, dragging the other boy behind him, Mrs. Curtis yelling after them to stop running in the house.


End file.
